


The Kings and the Unexpected Child

by jaydee09



Series: Two Kings [43]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Humour, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Please Thranduil not again!, Romance, broodiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-14 04:27:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5729491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaydee09/pseuds/jaydee09
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hope you had a good Xmas, although it is so sad that we have started the New Year with the deaths of David Bowie and Alan Rickman, two of my favourite celebrities.  So, just to cheer you up, here is a new story, stemming from someone’s suggestion.  (You see, I do sometimes pick up on them!)  Thranduil is broody again and can’t stop thinking about babies; Thorin is tearing his hair out at the thought.  Will the elven king get his wish – or not?!  The stage is set for the sort of baby-making sex that Thorin isn’t expecting and the re-entry of a character we have met before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Kings and the Unexpected Child

 

.o00o.

 

The Kings and the Unexpected Child

 

Pt I

 

Oh, No!  Not Again!

 

Thorin was  worried.  Thranduil had arrived for his two week stay in Erebor on the previous day and his behaviour had been a bit odd.  Usually, when he appeared on the threshold of the dwarf’s apartment, all hot and sweaty from a hard ride, he would practically fall through the door and drag Thorin to the bedroom: sometimes they made it as far as the bed and sometimes they didn’t.  But, whether they had their fuck on the floor or the mattress, it was exquisitely pleasurable for both of them and usually went on for half the night.

 

The dwarven king had prepared carefully for the elf’s arrival.  A few days earlier, he had come across a beautiful white fur rug whilst digging around in the extensive stores, deep in the bowels of Erebor.  He had laid it out in front of the fire in the main room of his apartment with a coverlet neatly folded to one side.  He had also made sure, on the day of Thranduil’s arrival, that the fire was built up with plenty of logs to hand.  It had started to snow that day and he had placed a whole load of white wine out on the balcony and had packed the bottles closely with ice.  He checked everything carefully: fire, rug, wine, glasses, coverlet.  And he changed into a loose silken robe that was easy to yank off.

 

As he lay on the bed, waiting for his partner, he fantasised about their love-making on the white fur.  It was tempting to fondle himself as he did so, but he showed great restraint as he saved himself for, what he imagined, would be an epic coming together.

 

However, that night, Thranduil had arrived looking tired and weary on his doorstep.  It was Thorin who had pulled the elven king over the threshold and then had undressed him by the fire.  Sensing the elf’s fey mood, he had gently lowered him upon the fur.  Stripping off his own robe, he lay down close to his lover, skin to skin at last.  “Tired?” he gently asked, placing delicate kisses on the elf’s long, white throat.  “It must have been hard going, riding through the snow.”  And he pressed his hot body against Thranduil’s, trying to warm his cold one.

 

Thranduil was always touched at the way that Thorin sensed, and then tried to adjust to, his moods.  He knew how desperate the dwarf must feel because there was a very hard cock pressing into the side of his hip.  And yet he did not try to force himself upon the elven king.  Instead, he murmured and kissed and stroked, making no demands.  Such tenderness and consideration had not been what he had expected of Thorin when he had first seen him by his grandfather’s throne 60 years earlier.  He had looked strong and powerful – barbaric even – unlike the elegant and sophisticated elf lords of Thranduil’s court.  His muscles had bulged on his arms and the tattoos had rippled as he flexed them.  Thranduil could not tear his eyes away and he had sat all evening next to Thror imagining himself being taken brutally by the young prince, being thrown on the bed with his wrists held tightly above his head, whilst Thorin, not even bothering to remove his breeches, thrust into him with animalistic desire.

 

He had wanted this but never attained it for years and years.  And, the amusing thing was, when they had eventually fallen into bed with each other, Thorin had been innocent and shy and vulnerable.  He had learned, of course, and sometimes Thranduil got what he had yearned for on that night so long ago.  But, often the dwarf’s passion was expressed in tenderness, as it was now.  So beautiful and unexpected.  How lucky he was to have found such a lover.

 

Thorin was caressing him tentatively now.  A large hand cupped his balls whilst his thumb ran up and down the pearling on his cock.  He had had that done to please the dwarf, as he had also had the barbell piercing done to the tip.  The dwarven king had been gently sucking his nipple, the one with ‘Thorin’s’ tattooed on it – another thing done for the dwarf’s pleasure – and now his lips trailed down to the said barbell on Thranduil’s prick where he drew it into his mouth in an undemanding sort of way.  No pressure, then.

 

Thranduil relaxed back into the soft rug, luxuriating in the fur, his eyes closed.  It was all very nice but he had no erection.  Thorin tried harder, gently pushing his middle finger up the elf’s backside and searching until he found the spot.  There was a response.  Not as good as some he had experienced, thought Thorin, but good enough.  When Thranduil opened his eyes, it was to see his lover straddling him and working him slowly in the red light of the fire. 

 

How beautiful the dwarf looked, his powerful body seemingly polished and turned to bronze in the flicker of the flames.  And Thorin was thinking the same thing, gazing down at his elven lover who lay engulfed in white fur with his platinum hair spread out in a great fan about him.  Their eyes locked.  Thorin deserved everything, the elf was thinking.  Everything.  And he deserved so much more than what he was capable of giving.

 

Dark blue eyes gazed intently down into pale blue ones.  Perhaps he’s just tired, thought the dwarven king.  But there was something more.  He felt it.  And then he gasped and flung his head back and came.

 

.o00o.

 

The fire had burned itself out when Thorin awoke the next morning.  He arose and stirred the embers, adding kindling to get it going again.  The glasses sat unused and he opened the door to the balcony, grabbed a bottle and swiftly closed it again.  More snow.  He sat on the edge of the rug and poured himself a glass, gazing broodingly at the elven king who still slept.  Yes, something was wrong.  Thranduil hadn’t come last night and Thorin felt that there was more behind it than being tired after his journey.

 

The elf slowly stirred and looked in silence at the dwarf who sat there naked, by his feet, a King of Carven Stone in his beauty.

 

“What’s wrong?” Thorin asked quietly.

 

“I want to give you a baby,” gulped the elven king.  “We have to try again.”

 

Thorin’s heart sank.

 

.o00o.

 

Pt II

Special Sexual Considerations

 

What a wretched nine months that had been when Thranduil had endured a phantom pregnancy!  Or rather, Thorin had endured Thranduil’s phantom pregnancy.  Oin had told him that it was impossible for the elf to be pregnant but Thranduil had been so happy that, at last, the dwarf had fathered a child all of his own that Thorin had gently nursed him through the whole experience – and had got no thanks for it either when the expected baby had not made an appearance.

 

And Thranduil had been so strange for months afterwards.  Thorin was sure that he couldn’t go through that again.  During the phantom pregnancy, he had been so kind and supportive and hadn’t suggested once that it was all in Thranduil’s imagination.  But now, he felt that he had to put his foot down and so he said firmly:  “My love, we have been through this all before.  You are not a woman and therefore you cannot have a baby.  I thought your phantom pregnancy proved that to you.”

 

Thranduil’s lower lip quivered a little: “Yes, but I thought we also discussed at the time that our union is an unusual one and who knows what might happen if we went about things in a proper way?”

 

The dwarf rolled his eyes.  “But, when we’re together, we fuck each other day and night.  And if we haven’t produced a baby by now then I don’t see that we ever shall.”

 

A tear rolled down the elf’s cheek. 

 

“And besides,” continued Thorin, “you already have a son and I have an adopted son and grandchild.  Isn’t that enough?”

 

The tears were coming thick and fast by now.  “But, I want to give you a child of your own blood, Thorin,” he said pathetically.  “It’s all for you.”

 

Well, the dwarven king wasn’t so sure of that.  He had made it quite clear that he was content with his lot, but Thranduil had a tendency to become broody: he had thoroughly enjoyed the ‘pregnancy’ and the prospect of motherhood and saw himself as a second mother to little Durin.  Thorin decided to try a little tenderness and, leaning forward, he gently cupped the elf’s face in his hands and wiped the tears away with his thumbs.

 

“There, there,” he whispered comfortingly.  “Don’t be sad.  You’re all I need and you mustn’t think about these things.  If it were possible, it would be wonderful, but, since Oin says it’s not, we must just learn to be happy together.”

 

At that, Thranduil looked up eagerly.  “But, what if Oin is wrong?  He knows nothing about elven physiology so I have consulted an elven physician and he says that it just might be possible – we only have to use the right methods.”

 

A huge groan rose up through Thorin’s throat but he managed to stifle it before it escaped from his lips.   He tried to be patient.  “What methods?” he asked in despair.

 

Thranduil cheered up as the dwarf gave him an opening.  “Well, it’s to do with sexual methods.  We just weren’t doing it right before, you know.”

 

Thorin gave a half-grin.  This might be interesting, he thought.  And he began to imagine all sorts of exotic positions that the elven physician may have recommended.  Suddenly, it didn’t seem like such a bad idea.  “All right,” he said slowly, “we’ll try for six months.  But, you must promise that, if you’re not pregnant by then, you’ll abandon the whole idea.”

 

“I promise,” breathed the elven king, his eyes shining.  “And you must promise that you will commit yourself to this and not give up if the going gets tough.”

 

“Yes,” I promise,” replied Thorin cheerfully, thinking of his dwarven stamina.  He wasn’t one for giving up where sex was involved.

 

The elf pulled him down upon his breast as he lay on the rug and wriggled sensuously in the fur.  “You’re so good to me,” he sighed.  “Not many partners would be prepared to take part in such a demanding exercise.”

 

Thorin grinned and growled in Thranduil’s ear: “Just tell me what I’ve got to do.  I’m all ready for action.  We can start now – this minute – if you wish.  I’m really looking forward to a good fuck.  What do these methods involve?”

 

“Well,” said Thranduil, looking vaguely surprised, “we already had our fuck last night.  Now we’ve got to wait for another week.”

 

The dwarf blinked rapidly.  “What?  I don’t understand.”

 

“It’s like this, you see,” explained the elf, getting comfortable in his true love’s arms.  “The elven physician told me that we probably failed to get pregnant because we were doing it too often……You were exhausting your supply, so to speak.  He reckons that the optimum number of times we should do it is once a week whilst the two of us are together.  We’ve had our go this week: now we must wait another seven days.”

 

Thorin’s jaw dropped.  “I’m not quite sure if this is the sort of experiment I’m willing to take part in,” he said huffily, sitting up.

 

“You promised,” responded the elven king, his eyes narrowing.  “And,” he said, shaking a finger at Thorin as if he were a naughty child, “you mustn’t sneak off for a wank.  You’ve got to save it all for me.”

 

The dwarf shook his head in disbelief.  “And do you expect us to share a bed and for me to get a good night’s sleep without a fuck?”

 

“Yes,” said Thranduil sternly.  “I want to keep my eye on you.  It’s only for 6 months after all.”

 

Thorin spluttered: “Only…. _only_!  You don’t know what you’re asking of me!”

 

Tears began to gather in the elf’s eyes again.  “You promised,” he whispered.

 

Thorin knew he couldn’t win.  “All right,” he sighed, lying down again and wishing he had asked about the small print before he had made that promise.  “Only six months, mind you.”

 

Thranduil pulled him tightly against his body and gave him a passionate kiss – with tongues.  Thorin couldn’t help it: his prick immediately sprang into action and poked his lover in the belly.  The elf tutted and pushed him away.  “You’re going to have to try harder than that,” he snapped.

 

Thorin sighed again.  It was going to be a long six months.

 

.o00o.

 

Pt III

 

The Agony and the Ecstasy!

 

Well, it was awful, absolutely-Mahal-in- a-wig-awful.  The next seven days passed like when you’re trapped in a dream and trying to run in tar.  Thranduil stuck close to him in case he felt like being a naughty boy and his constant presence was so tantalising that the dwarf was always in a state of arousal.

 

The nights were the worst.  They started off sleeping on opposite sides of the bed but they naturally gravitated towards each other as they slept.  In the end, Thorin would wake up to find the elf fast asleep but with one hand subconsciously squeezing his rock-hard cock and his lips nuzzling his throat.  It took sheer effort of will to pull himself away and lie there quietly, trying to think of boring things until the erection subsided and he fell back into a restless sleep.  One night, things were so bad that Thorin had to go out on the balcony with a shallow basin which he filled with snow and then he had to sit in it until his poor cock shrivelled back towards his body, searching for warmth.  _Lucky it didn’t get frostbite and drop off,_ he muttered to himself.

 

At last, the seven days had passed.  Thranduil spent all day being flirtatious and fluttering his eyelashes at him.

 

“Don’t you two ever leave each other alone?” laughed Dwalin, noticing the sexual tension between them.   If only, thought his king.

 

At last, it was time; Thorin ripped off his clothes and leapt into bed.  Thranduil sashayed sexily towards him.  “If you carry on like that,” snarled Thorin in a most unromantic manner, “I shall come the moment you touch me.”

 

Thranduil stopped in the middle of an especially erotic grind of his hips and blinked.  “I was only trying to make it easy for you to get it up and do your duty,” he said, a bit hurt that his efforts had gone unappreciated.

 

“I’ve been up all week, waiting for this moment,” snapped the dwarf irritably.  “And you’ll never get pregnant if I shed my load before I come anywhere near you.”

 

Thranduil pulled an anxious face at the possibility, closed the distance between them in a most unsexy scuttle and slipped carefully between the sheets.  They both lay stiffly, side by side, not touching.  Eventually, the elf said: “Right, I’m ready.  You can fuck me now.”

 

It’s all so unnatural, thought the dwarf as he slid on top of his lover.  There was no foreplay – that might be overstimulating.  Instead, Thorin just went straight for it, pulling the elf’s white thigh high up over his hip and pressing cautiously into him.

 

Well, it didn’t take long: just a few quick in-and-outs and then he came.  The frustrations of a whole week roared out of him in one spectacular explosion of cum.  It was what Thranduil wanted, of course, but it was extraordinarily unsatisfying.

 

.o00o.

 

And so it went on, week after week.  Thorin thought he must burst apart with frustration.  He even had an embarrassing wet dream - and he hadn’t had one of those since he was a young dwarf.  Thranduil had woken up and read him the riot act.  Well, could he help what fantasies his subconscious got up to?

 

They were wending their way towards the last couple of weeks when a totally unexpected incident occurred.  Thranduil was feeling rather depressed because even he was beginning to believe that he wasn’t designed for pregnancy.  Thorin was very bad-tempered and was finding excuses to spend time on his own, just to get away from the temptation that was Thranduil. 

 

This particular morning, the dwarf had a council meeting and so the elven king was just kicking around in his apartment.  He might not show it but he was pretty desperate for a good, regular fuck too: but it was he who had to be the strong one because it was he who wanted a child the most.  Although he had said that he was doing this for Thorin, actually, the dwarf had guessed correctly.  He was doing it for himself.  These broody moments swept over him when he longed for a baby again: he hadn’t done an especially good job with Legolas and he yearned for a second chance.

 

He was gazing moodily out the window when there came a firm knock at the door.  And, when he opened it, there, on the threshold, stood Sabrina.  She was the beautiful woman from Dale who, several years ago, had tricked him into drinking a love potion so that she could mete out her revenge on the two kings.  Thranduil had been infatuated with her and had spent an intense two days in bed with her in Mirkwood before Thorin had sorted it out with an antidote.

 

The dwarven king had understood her desire for revenge and the only punishment she had received, even though she had caused them so much pain, was to have the inn she leased in Dale taken from her so that she was forced to return to her mother.

 

All the awful memories of that time returned to the elf like a punch in the face but before he could refuse her entrance, she pushed her way through the door and confronted him.  It was only then that he noticed that she held a large bag and the hand of a very pretty little girl.

 

“I’m leaving Dale,” she said abruptly.  “And so I’m leaving Ellie behind.”  The child stared at him with wide, blue eyes.

 

A glorious, sneaking suspicion began to creep into Thranduil’s mind – but he dare not think it yet – not until she said the words.

 

“Take her,” snapped Sabrina.  “After all, she is yours.”  And she dropped both the bag and the child’s hand and swept from the room, leaving a stunned but elated elven king behind her.

 

.o00o.

 

Pt IV

 

Heart’s Desire?

 

The child gazed in awe and fascination at the gorgeous creature standing before her and reached out a hand to touch his beautiful silken gown.  “Pretty,” she said, smiling.  Thranduil reached down to stroke her lovely blond hair: “Pretty,” he said with a reciprocal smile.  He looked inside the bag which was full of clothes and a few toys and then he held out his hand.  She took it trustingly and he led her to sit down with him in front of the fire.

 

.o00o.

 

Thorin returned to his apartment in a bad mood.  He had argued his way through the council meeting and expected to argue his way through the rest of the day with Thranduil.  Where had all the good times gone?  He opened the door to be confronted by a startling scene.

Thranduil sat cross-legged in front of the fire and opposite him sat a charming, blond-haired little girl who was showing him some of her toys.  Thranduil turned towards him, his face glowing.

 

“And who might this be?” Thorin asked politely, crouching down beside them.

 

“This is Ellie.  My daughter,” Thranduil replied, proudly.

 

You could have knocked Thorin down with a feather.  Had Thranduil lost it at last?

 

“Sabrina has just made a visit.  She’s leaving Dale and so has decided to leave my daughter with me.”

 

Sabrina!  Thorin could just about believe the truth of this and yet, knowing what the woman was like, he didn’t.  The child could pass as part elf, with her blue eyes, blond hair and slender build, but…..

 

“Where’s she gone?” he growled.

 

“Don’t know,” said Thranduil, a bit peeved that Thorin wasn’t in similar ecstasies at the discovery of his daughter.  But, he supposed it was because the child wasn’t his.  He mentally shrugged.  Thorin hadn’t wanted a baby anyway.

 

Ellie, who had been entirely absorbed up until this moment in her toys and a plate of cake, suddenly rubbed her eyes tiredly.  “I want my Granny,” she said.

 

“Don’t worry,” replied the elf.  “I shall look after you now.”  But, to his horror, the little girl pulled a face and looked about to burst into tears.

 

“Want Granny,” she repeated stubbornly, and threw the cake and toys across the room.

 

Thranduil was horrified and cast a helpless look towards Thorin.

 

“Take her for a stroll to the Treasury,” the dwarven king suggested.  “Give her a few pretty baubles.  The walk might make her tired and perhaps she’ll take a nap.   I’ll sort this out, don’t you worry,” he added grimly and he hurried from the room.

 

.o00o.

 

Granny!  That would be Margery, thought Thorin as he mounted his horse and made for Dale.  She was a sensible woman who would be able to tell him what her daughter was up to this time.

 

Sabrina’s mother lived in a neat and tidy house in the centre of the town.  She looked a bit taken aback when she found Thorin at her door.

 

“Sir!” she said, curtseying.  “You do me a great honour.”  And she ushered him into her home.

 

Thorin sat down tiredly.  “Tell me about Sabrina and your granddaughter,” he said.

 

Margery looked startled.  “Well,” she hesitated, “after Sabrina had Ellie, she moved out and took up the lease of the inn again.  I look after Ellie and my daughter hardly bothers to visit her.”  Then she brightened up.  “But she came today.  They’re off gallivanting somewhere.”

 

“You could say that,” said Thorin grimly.  “Now tell me a bit more about the child……”

 

.o00o.

 

An exhausted Thranduil had just managed to get Ellie off to sleep in the bedroom when Thorin returned with Margery from Dale.

 

“Her grandmother has a story to tell,” said the dwarf.  “And you’d better listen.”

 

Margery explained how, after the dreadful incident with the love potion, she had taken Sabrina back into her home.  But, without the inn to look after, her daughter soon became bored and restless.

 

“A couple of months later, she moved in with a very rich merchant from Minas Tirith who was doing business in the town.  I did have hopes that something would come of it because he seemed to think the world of her.  But, when she told him she was pregnant, he wasn’t interested.  He abandoned her and went back to Minas Tirith, as far as I know.  He isn’t completely bad – he sends regular sums of money to Sabrina to help look after the child.  He just isn’t the paternal type, just as Sabrina isn’t cut out to be a mother.”

 

Realisation was beginning to dawn on Thranduil’s face and he asked in a quiet voice: “What did the man look like?”

 

“Like many men from that city: tall and fair with blue eyes.  He was very handsome, really, and I reckon that Sabrina has decided to go after him – without the child.”

 

The elven king’s shoulder’s sagged.  “So, why didn’t she just leave Ellie with you?  Why bring her here?   Isn’t there a chance that she’s mine?”  And he looked up hopefully.

 

“No,” said Margery.  “No chance.  The timing’s completely out.  No pointy ears either.”  And she patted his hand gently.  “I’m afraid my daughter is a vengeful person and it would seem she wanted to punish you one last time before she left Dale.  She knew you would find out the truth in the end and she wanted to hurt you.”

 

Thranduil quickly wiped away a tear and nodded his acceptance.  The woman added, “You can come and visit her occasionally if you really wish – but not too often.  She is nothing to you nor you to her and you must remember that.”

 

There was a knock at the door and two servants appeared.  “I’ve arranged for these two to help you take her home, Margery,” said Thorin quietly.   “You’re a good woman and don’t deserve a daughter like Sabrina.”

 

Margery smiled wanly.  “You make the most of what you get in life.  Ellie is a lovely child and I have been given a second chance.”

 

Thranduil thought of how he had wanted a second chance too and, as the door closed behind the departing group, his tears began to flow freely.

 

“You need a cuddle,” said Thorin gently, and he took him to the bed where he stripped off both their clothes.  He stroked the elf and kissed away his tears until they both fell asleep.

In the middle of the night, Thorin opened his eyes blearily.  “Whassup?” he asked.

 

Thranduil was kneeling between his thighs and he was bent over him, his eyes gleaming fiercely in the faint light.  “I want a good fuck,” said the elven king.

 

At last, thought the dwarf with relief.  He grinned.  “But, we only had one four days ago.  You might be spoiling your chances of getting pregnant.”

 

“Who cares about getting pregnant?” snarled the elf and he pulled the dwarf’s thighs up to his waist and pushed his very erect cock inside him.

 

“As hard as you like,” gasped Thorin.  And Thranduil didn’t hesitate but thrust into him as hard as they both liked.

 

Some time later, the elven king lay with his golden head on the dwarf’s powerful belly, playing gently with his limp prick.  “You know,” he said thoughtfully, “you couldn’t impregnate me, but I wonder if I could impregnate you?”

 

Thorin’s eyes sprang open and he yelled, “Nooooooo!”

 

“Only joking,” said Thranduil.

 

“Thank Mahal for that,” sighed the dwarven king and he fell back to sleep.

 

But, Thranduil still lay there, stroking that taut belly and wondering what it would be like if it were round and swollen and pregnant.  “Absolutely lovely, I should think,” he murmured to himself.

 

And he reached up and played gently with Thorin’s hairy nipples.  “I wonder whether, if Thorin _did_ get pregnant, his breasts would swell up too,” he thought.  And he conjured up in his mind a most delightful image of Thorin breast-feeding.

 

The elven king let out a long, broody sigh.  Somewhen, sometime, he would have to summon up the courage to talk about this very important subject with his one true love.  Then he snuggled comfortably into the crook of Thorin’s arm and went to sleep.

 

.o00o.

 

**Poor Thranduil!    Once he gets his teeth into something, he doesn’t let go, does he?  Or should that be Poor Thorin?**

**Hope you enjoyed that.  A reader suggested the return of Sabrina with a baby in tow to me, but that was so long ago that the story had to be about a little girl instead.  I think she expected the baby to actually be Thranduil’s but I didn’t want to muddy the water too much with children all over the place.  Sorry about that.**

**If you want to read the original Sabrina story then it’s called _The Kings and the Aphrodisiac_.  The story where Thranduil wants to get pregnant is called _The Kings and the Pregnancy_.**

**Next story already up: _The Kings and a Question of Love_.**

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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